whole or part of the original song; and as they are middling good, and the air most beautiful, they had, of course, become popular. Some bard who had been partial to the clans, fired with indignation at hearing the disgrace of his countrymen sung all over the land, had added to the original verses an overcharged account of the battle of Auldearn, won by Montrose, their favourite leader, against the Whigs: but, by a vile anachronism, he has made it to happen on the day following the action at Cromdale, whereas it happened just forty-five years before it. Although, therefore, I have placed the ballad among the songs of this early period, I am persuaded it had its origin at a much later date; but it would have been ridiculous to have placed a song that treated wholly of Montrose, subsequent to events that happened long after his death. Yet the part of the ballad that describes the victory won by that hero cannot be the original part of it, else the writer would never have placed the action at Cromdale, which is almost a day's journey distant from Auldearn, and no way connected with the scene of that engagement. It would never do now to separate this old and popular song into two parts; but nothing can be more evident, than that one part of the song describes the battle won by Montrose and the clans, on the 4th of May 1645; and the other part, that won by Livingston over the clans, on the 1st of May 1690. The names of the clans mentioned in the song are those that were present with Montrose at Auldearn; the rout that the defeated army took, together with the number of them that reached Aberdeen, all accord with the truth of history: so that at whatever period the song was made, it evidently alludes to that action." Hogg's Jacobite Relics.] As I came in by Achindoun, I met a man in tartan trews, That e'er we came to Cromdale. "We were in bed, Sir, every man, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. "The English horse they were so rude, They bath'd their hoofs in Highland blood, But our brave clans, they boldly stood Upon the haughs of Cromdale. "But, alas! we could no longer stay, That e'er we came to Cromdale." Thus the great Montrose did say, "Can you direct the nearest way, For I will o'er the hills this day, And view the haughs of Cromdale." "Alas, my lord, you're not so strong, Thus the great Montrose did say, "I say, direct the nearest way, For I will o'er the hills this day, And see the haughs of Cromdale." They were at dinner, every man, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. The Grant, Mackenzie, and M'Ky, The M'Donalds they return'd again, The Camerons did their standard join, M'Intosh play'd a bloody game Upon the haughs of Cromdale. The M'Gregors fought like lions bold, M'Phersons, none could them controul, M'Lauchlins fought, like loyal souls, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neils, So boldly as they took the field, And made their enemies to yield, Upon the haughs of Cromdale. The Gordons boldly did advance, APPENDIX. The Maid of Glen Fruin. [MODERN Ballad.-PETER M'ARTHUR.-For an account of the battle of Glen Fruin, fought, in the reign of James VI., between the M'Gregors and Colquhouns, aided by the men of Lennox and Lomond, see Browne's History of the Highland Clans, or Sir Walter Scott's introduction to the annotated edition of his celebrated novel of Rob Roy.] THE last lone echo dies away, Among yon mountains faint and far, And the dim shades of sinking day Light up the silent evening star. No beacon light streams down the pass, We hear no answering pibroch ring, In silence o'er the mountain mass, See the pale moon in beauty hung, Reflecting in the lake beneath Her trembling rays of silvery sheen; And the night wind with balmy breath Scarce stirs the brackens bending green. Ah! who could think that scenes so fair E'er trembled to the warrior's tread, Or that red heather blooming there Waves o'er the warrior's narrow bed. Here Alpine's bands from wild glens stray, The haughty chieftain of Rossdhu Ah, who that onset could withstand? And Lomonds too, a bleeding band, The stainless banner of Rosshdu Still floated o'er brave warrior men, And still with dauntless hearts, and true, They barr'd the pass by Fruin's Glen. The claymore gleamed with reddening flash, The battle-axes rose and fell, Full on each foe with deadly crash, And hark! the pibroch's mingling yell! But now the sweeping wild array Of Alpine's bold unbroken band, Scattered their foes, as ocean's spray Is broken on the rocky strand. And upward from the darksome glen, M'Gregors' shouts of triumph rose, And the wild shrieks of dying men Beneath the brands of conquering foes. Now, where the Fruin glides away Around yon rocks and withered fern, Rossdbu again, in bold array, Is mustering all his clansmen stern. And well they fought, as men should fight, APPENDIX. The Raid of Glen Fruin. [MODERN Ballad.-PETER M'ARTHUR.-For an account of the battle of Glen Fruin, fought, in the reign of James VI., between the M'Gregors and Colquhouns, aided by the men of Lennox and Lomond, see Browne's History of the Highland Clans, or Sir Walter Scott's introduc-. tion to the annotated edition of his celebrated novel of Rob Roy.] Tux last lone echo dies away, Among yon mountains faint and far, And the dim shades of sinking day Light up the silent evening star. No beacon light streams down the pass, We hear no answering pibroch ring, In silence o'er the mountain mass, See the pale moon in beauty hung, Reflecting in the lake beneath Her trembling rays of silvery sheen; And the night wind with balmy breath Scarce stirs the brackens bending green. Ah! who could think that scenes so fair E'er trembled to the warrior's tread, Or that red heather blooming there Waves o'er the warrior's narrow bed. Here Alpine's bands from wild glens stray, The haughty chieftain of Rossdhu Ah, who that onset could withstand? And Lomonds too, a bleeding band. The stainless banner of Rosshdu Still floated o'er brave warrior men, And still with dauntless hearts, and true, They barr'd the pass by Fruin's Glen. The claymore gleamed with reddening flash, The battle-axes rose and fell, Full on each foe with deadly crash, And hark! the pibroch's mingling yell! But now the sweeping wild array Of Alpine's bold unbroken band, Scattered their foes, as ocean's spray Is broken or, the rocky strand. And upward from the darksome glen, M'Gregors' shouts of triumph rose, And the wild shrieks of dying men Beneath the brands of conquering foes. Now, where the Fruin glides away Around yon rocks and withered fern, Rossdhu again, in bold array, Is mustering all his clansmen stern. And well they fought, as men should fight, |
